THERE ARE CARPER AND CASTLE, STANDING LIKE A
FIREWALL

By Celia Cohen
Grapevine Political Writer

The political brushfire that appears to be sweeping
across the country -- a smoky burn of anti-Washington
and anti-Republican sentiment demanding change -- is
running into something of a firewall here in Delaware.

The firewall has a name to it, actually two names. It
is U.S. Sen. Thomas R. Carper and U.S. Rep. Michael N.
Castle, a Democratic-Republican combination that is too
popular at home to be viewed as part of the problem, but
rather part of a solution.

Voters are not rushing to the polls on Tuesday to
turn out either Carper or Castle, both of them
ex-governors with reservoirs of good will that comes
from holding statewide office for decades.

Without a target at the top of the ticket, voter
anger is not what it could be. More likely, people will
be using their votes to send get-well wishes to Castle,
on the mend from a mini-stroke in September.

"The two of them are where Delaware is. We are
moderate-to-liberal on social issues, especially now
that New Castle County dominates so much, and fiscally
we're conservative," said James R. Soles, a political
scientist retired from the University of Delaware.

"What's happening in the country isn't going to have
any impact in Delaware, except if the Democrats win the
close ones, then I'd say we got a smidgen."

The state is left with essentially a local election
and only scarce opportunities to vote for change -- not
with Carper and Castle, along with Democratic Treasurer
Jack A. Markell and Republican Auditor R. Thomas Wagner
Jr., all appearing to be rocketing toward re-election.

The voters will get a new attorney general no matter
what, electing either Democrat Joseph R. "Beau" Biden
III or Republican Ferris W. Wharton to take over from
Carl C. Danberg, the Democrat appointed last year to
finish out the term of Republican M. Jane Brady when she
became a judge.

The state Senate is a virtual lock to remain under
Democratic control. The state House of Representatives
has only the barest of outside chances to swing from a
Republican majority to a Democratic one -- the political
equivalent of a hail-Mary pass to switch six seats.

Still, the state Democrats are doing what they can to
capitalize on a political mood they believe is favorable
to their side. The party's field operatives on Election
Day will be wearing t-shirts with "Organize Delaware" on
the front and a photo of the president on the back with
the words, "Send George W. Bush a message, vote
Democrat."

"When have you ever seen an election when a party
puts a picture of the opposing president on the back of
a t-shirt?" cracked John D. Daniello, the Democratic
state chair.

Regardless of the political mood, the Democrats have
the numbers on their side in a state where the trend in
voter registration relentlessly is moving their way.

Since the last non-presidential election in 2002 --
when voters similarly were choosing a senator,
representative, attorney general, treasurer and auditor
-- the registration has jumped from roughly 520,000
voters to 558,000 voters.

Of those 38,000 new voters, an overwhelming 22,000 of
them are Democrats and an underwhelming 3,000 of them
are Republicans, with the rest unaffiliated or
minor-party voters. The electorate stands at 44 percent
Democratic, 32 percent Republican and 24 percent others.

The registration numbers do not necessarily
intimidate the Republicans, because what really matters
is the turnout, and the Republicans customarily get more
of their voters to the polls than the Democrats do.

In 2002, for example, 50 percent of the Republican
voters came out, while only 45 percent of the Democrats
did, and the Republicans had a very good year. Their
superior effort accounted for Brady's photo-finish
return as attorney general and a pickup of three seats
in the state House.

Both parties have furious get-out-the-vote drives in
the works this year.

The Democrats are concentrating on motivating their
under-performing areas -- districts with high Democratic
registration but notoriously low turnout -- places that
cost them their shot at picking off Brady in 2002 and
nearly lost them the governorship in 2004, when Ruth Ann
Minner barely slipped into a second term with 51 percent
of the vote. Those anti-Bush t-shirts are supposed to
help.

The Republicans are setting up a massive phone bank
operation, running Friday through Monday, to contact
their voters. They intend to make 78,000 calls,
according to an e-mail request for volunteers from state
Republican Chair Terry A. Strine.

"If we get a bigger percentage of our votes out, we
win," Daniello said.

"That is simple math. That is not new math for John
Daniello," countered Priscilla B. Rakestraw, the
Republican national committeewoman. "But Delaware voters
tend to surprise you. Republicans are an optimistic
bunch. Otherwise, they wouldn't be Republicans."

The race most likely to be decided by turnout is the
election for attorney general, where the parties are in
a ferocious clash, the Republicans digging in to stop a
family dynasty before it starts and the Democrats
determined to show that yes, as a matter of fact, they
do own this state.

Each side is on track to spend more than a million
dollars, an unheard-of amount for a second-tier contest.
There are political spots on Philadelphia television,
the candidates are slugging it out in debates and
double-dare-you press conferences, and celebrity
boosters are being imported, like John Walsh from
"America's Most Wanted" for Biden on Thursday and New
York Gov. George E. Pataki for Wharton on Saturday.

The Democrats also expect to rely on their new and
improved get-out-the-vote effort in key legislative
races. They are defending the state Senate seats of two
Democrats targeted by the Republicans -- state Sen.
David P. Sokola of Pike Creek Valley and state Sen.
James T. Vaughn Sr. of Clayton -- and also looking to
pick up state House seats.

Currently the Senate Democrats have a 13-8 majority,
and the House Republicans have an edge of 25-15 with one
independent.

The Democrats would have a good Election Day if they
elect Biden, preserve Sokola and Vaughn, and take some
of the open state House seats with Gerald L. Brady in
Wilmington and Robert E. Walls and Jeanine Kleimo in
Kent County.

The Democrats would have a great day if they also
knock off some Republican House incumbents they have
targeted, namely Speaker Terry R. Spence in Christiana,
state Rep. Robert J. Valihura Jr. in Brandywine Hundred
and state Rep. William R. "Bobby" Outten in Kent County.

The Republicans would have a good day if they elect
Wharton, keep their majority in the state House and
claim a Senate seat by ousting Sokola with Michael J.
Ramone. It would be a great day if they also unseat
Vaughn and lose no House seats at all, winning open
seats with Gary C. Linarducci in Wilmington and Donald
A. Blakey and Ulysses S. Grant in Kent County.

Despite a reliance on polling and registration
figures, elections are less political "science" than
they are the course of very human events. They are a
churn of talent, hard work, mistakes, missed
opportunities, timing and even luck.

There is no better example than what is happening in
Sussex County in the re-election campaign of John C.
Atkins, a Republican state representative from
Millsboro.

Atkins won his seat in 2002 in what was supposed to
be a Democratic district on the strength of the strong
Republican turnout and a flawed Democratic candidate. He
kept it in 2004 when the Democrats essentially gave him
a free ride by putting up Barbara A. Lifflander, a weak
opponent, and he floated to victory with 70 percent of
the vote.

Atkins was on his way this year to another easy win
in a rematch with Lifflander, until he got himself
arrested early Sunday morning in a domestic dispute with
his wife Heather. Since then, the Democrats have been
kicking themselves for not fielding a better candidate
against him.

Atkins runs a trash collection business called Blue
Hen Dispose-all, and he was known to say that he wishes
he had named it John Atkins Dispose-all, because all of
his trash receptacles at people's homes would have been
the equivalent of thousands of John Atkins yard signs.

"That's the biggest political mistake I ever made,"
he said, although he probably is not saying it any more.